


Maybe Tonight

by BlownAwayEveryday



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: M/M, One Night Stands, One Shot, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Young Freddie, can't sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 20:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19117030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlownAwayEveryday/pseuds/BlownAwayEveryday
Summary: Young Freddie can't sleep after a one night stand, and just wants a hug. His bed mate doesn't feel the same way.





	Maybe Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovies,  
> This is a one shot that just dropped into my head. It's also my first fan fic and first attempt at writing anything, so your opinions greatly received

A light moved slowly across the ceiling as a car pulled away from the front of the hotel. It must be a taxi thought Freddie, as he heard feminine shrieks of laughter, and then nothing as the doorman let them into the hotel. He wondered what the time was. He squinted. Straining his eyes against the dark to locate the windows, then the door trying to familiarise himself with his surroundings.

This part was always weird.

The part where sobriety crept in, the temperature dropped, and his body ached from the night’s activities.

He looked at the mountain of a man sleeping next to him and had never felt so alone. He wondered what the others were doing. He bet Brian and Deaky were fast asleep, having had their nightly chat with their partners. Perhaps they had given Scrabble a miss tonight, on account of Freddie not being there. He bet that Brian had tenderly cleaned the strings of his guitar before lovingly putting her to bed.

Roger…now what would Roger be up to? No doubt he was sandwiched between two blondes and a brunette, sleeping soundly after a good fuck.

Freddie wished he was sleeping soundly. He couldn’t sleep alone. He never had been able to. Not since his boarding school days in India when he had learnt very early in life that it was safer to sleep in dorms snuggled up between your bigger mates. 

His band mates accepted him as he was …tactile. They thought he was a bit weird at first, a grown man who could never quite get enough affection, who couldn’t sit on the furniture without cuddling someone, and they were relieved if one of his cats were there, or he had a warm blanket that felt nice on his skin. 

Roger had introduced Freddie to Brian as ‘the old Queen’. Brian was very uncomfortable at first. The memory brought a giggle to Freddie’s lips that he couldn’t release. These days he was comfortable if it was just thighs touching in a confined space, or a head on his shoulder when they watched a movie, or Freddie was nodding off. Sometimes if he was really lucky, Brian would soothingly stroke his hair when he wasn’t feeling well. Deaky took him as he was. He could always get a nice hug from Deaky.

The man beside him snored and rolled onto his back. The movement of the cheap mattress made Freddie wince as his body started to throb. This one had been rough. The man had driven into the hotel car park in his truck. On the portly side, unshaven, vest wearing, with very muscular arms and shoulders. Freddie had taken one look at him and shivered. He knew he would feel tiny in those arms – delicate and feminine. He craved the power that body could have over him. How he would feel being dominated, controlled, and fucked into next week. He vaguely remembered coming down from his orgasm in a drug fueled haze. The man had groaned, slapped his arse, and rolled off him. 

Freddie was high then. Now he was just cold.

He looked over at the man again. If he could just shuffle carefully, he could align his arm and thigh with the mans. If he was really careful, he could wrap his arm around him and nuzzle his cheek against the man’s chest. Freddie knew he could sleep then. Block out the cold, and the ache until morning.

***********************************************************

The man snapped awake. What the fuck?! There was an arm around his waist, and sweet little breaths against his chest. His immediate thought was to push tonight’s pick up off him with as much force as he could muster, but he didn’t want a show down. If he’d have wanted to cuddle, he’d have picked up a woman! 

He hated these scenarios – taking his pick-ups back to his hotel room. As it happened if this particular pick up hadn’t paid for the room he’d be sleeping in his cab for the night. Also, sex in a bed was better than a knee trembler down a back alley.

He looked at the man again careful not to wake him. He couldn’t see anything of the sassy little firecracker he’d pulled in the car park. All tight assed leather pants, chest hair, and a smart mouth that he could imagine around his cock. 

Carefully he rolled the stranger onto his back and untangled his octopus sucker arms from around him. He looked young in sleep. Much younger than originally thought, and the man hoped he was legal. 

Smooth soft skin, long dark locks fanned out on the pillow, dark rose bud lips, and long lashes contrasting with pale skin in the lightening room. Yes. He was most certainly young. He looked much smaller than the man remembered too in his drunken state. He had remembered that he was easy to throw around on the bed, and very willing. 

The lips began to mutter in his sleep, not quite forming words and making no sense. He snuggled deeper into the thin sheet, and when that didn’t give him the satisfaction he was looking for, he rolled back towards the man, attempting to snuggle into him.

The man couldn’t take anymore. He rolled out of bed in one smooth move. Pulling his jeans off the floor and dressing as quickly as he could. A couple of staggers and he was in his shoes, and out of the door.

**********************************************

Freddie pushed the studio door open the next morning to see his band mates were already there. Brian’s mop of curls falling over his eyes as he tuned his guitar. Deaky trying to help a confused Ratty with the night’s set list. 

“Freddie!” jeered Roger as he came careering down the corridor with an armful of coffees dribbling down his jeans. “good night?” 

Freddie winked at Roger “I got fucked into next week mate”. 

“That’s my boy” said Roger dropping a cup of coffee onto the piano top. 

Freddie winced as he sat at the piano stool, tears inexplicably prickling at his eyes. There was always tonight, maybe tonight he would get what he craved.


End file.
